


The Shape of You

by HeyAssbuttImBatman



Series: Batman's Crack Anthology [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: (don't worry no one gets drunk), Alcohol, Crack, F/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 04:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17974412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyAssbuttImBatman/pseuds/HeyAssbuttImBatman
Summary: She looks down at herself, and Rhysand looks, too, a bit unsure as to where he’s supposed to focus his gaze until he notices that she’s starting to swell a bit between the legs. He looks up at Feyre in horror. She squeaks.“I’ve got a penis!” she exclaims happily.





	The Shape of You

**Author's Note:**

> when i was reading the books, sometimes i was like "rhysand just rlly needs to get a good piping boi needs his cheeks CLAPPED" and thus was this born. i'm not sorry.

Rhysand is reading in the bedroom when he hears Feyre let out a bloodcurdling scream. He winnows to just outside of the bathroom without a thought, and is about to knock and call out for her when the door suddenly flies open and Feyre comes running out so fast that she trips and flies into Rhysand’s chest. They both go down in a flailing, tangled mess of limbs. Rhys grunts in pain when he lands on the ground, hard. 

“Feyre, what’s wrong?” Rhys demands, ignoring the aching in his back as he looks into his mate’s wide eyes. She’s naked and soaking, having no doubt been in the bath, and her whole body is trembling slightly.

“Rhysand,” she breathes. Her face splits into a grin and she scrambles up and off of him, offering him a hand up as if in afterthought. Bemused, he allows her to pull him to his feet and tries to straighten his clothes out.

“I’m confused,” he says. “Are you not hurt? Why did you scream?”

“So I’ve been experimenting with my powers, right?” Feyre says, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and Rhysand realizes that her shaking isn’t from fear, but excitement. “And specifically the shapeshifting that I got from Tamlin—don’t give me that look, I know you hate him, but just—look.”

She looks down at herself, and Rhysand looks, too, a bit unsure as to where he’s supposed to focus his gaze until he notices that she’s starting to swell a bit between the legs. He looks up at Feyre in horror. She squeaks.

“I’ve got a penis!” she exclaims happily.

* * *

“Really, Rhys, I don’t see why you’re so upset,” Feyre says while Rhys scrounges around the kitchen for some alcohol.

“I’m not upset,” Rhysand says. He finds a bottle of wine, then decides he’ll need something a bit stronger. “Just a bit caught off-guard. How did this come about again?”

“Well, remember the other day when I made you cum just by sending you thoughts about you fucking me?”

Rhys pauses to grin stupidly. “How could I forget, Feyre darling?”

She preens. “I wanted to know if it really feels _that_ good to fuck someone, so I started playing around with the shapeshifting. It took me a few days to really get it under control, though.”

In the back of one of the cabinets, Rhysand finds a bottle of whiskey. He cracks it open and chugs a few gulps without bothering with a glass. He looks at Feyre’s penis. It’s been half-hard ever since he first bent over to look under the sink, the pink head just barely visible, and even he has to admit that it’s a really nice penis. It’s thick and uncut, nestled in a tantalizing nest of curls just a shade or two darker than her hair.

He takes another gulp of the whiskey.

“Alright,” he says, wiping his mouth. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

They discover that Rhysand doesn’t have a gag reflex, but he does, like most people, object to getting jizz in his eye.

* * *

Hours later, Rhysand’s jaw and ass and hips and back and even his fucking scalp are sore, and his eye is a little red from getting jizzed on but overall he’s feeling fantastic. Feyre’s leaning against the headboard with her hands behind her head, unbelievably smug. She has the blankets pulled up to her waist, with a little window ripped into them so her dick can flop out.

“I can’t bear to put it away,” she said to him earlier. “It’s too pretty to be hidden in pants or skirts.”

“It is a really pretty dick,” Rhysand admitted. Feyre smiled and thrust into him even harder for that.

Now, Rhysand catches his breath and says, “I think you’re even better at this than I am.”

Feyre’s grin grows predatory. “Would you like to go again?” she asks. “To have a big enough sample of data, of course.”

Rhysand sits up in the bed and rolls his shoulders and puts on his game face. 

“Let’s do this,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> * “<3” as extra kudos
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> This author replies to comments.
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> Note: If you don't want a reply for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with "whisper" and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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